


Da's Girl

by Spectre_Anon



Category: Unsounded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 05:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7561606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spectre_Anon/pseuds/Spectre_Anon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life can be rough for Sette Frummagem but she knows that no matter what, she'll always be her Da's girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Da's Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Written a few years back for the Unsounded fanfic contest. Hope you enjoy :)

She wasn't scared. 'Course not. She was a _Frummagem_. They spat in the face of fear, kneed it in the balls and pissed on its clothes... and robbed it too, because a Frummagem never missed an opportunity. She was a lion in the face of danger - nothing could frighten her nawt. Still, as the rough hands grabbed her and dragged her from the street into the gloom of the alleyway, she knew she was in trouble. Hadn't seen it coming.

It had been a normal day for Sette Frummagem, normal as any in Hanghorse. The rich stench of a town packed full of dubious individuals, the salty tang of the sea... all the smells greeted her like an old friend. Here was home, here was where she belonged, where she began each day and ended each night. It weren’t a pretty place, but she knew it like herself and despite all its scars, all its narrow back streets and dark deeds, she accepted it as a most loyal accomplice. Hanghorse she could rely on. Not to be sweet and kind, but to be a constant, something to hold her steady... To keep all those alleyways where she liked them, those little nooks and hidey holes, the cracks in the wharf, those short cuts and madly twisting paths that would leave a stranger lost and helpless. Maybe it wouldn’t last, but for now they were partners in crime, and there was no one Sette would rather have watching her back.

Accompanied by the raucous shriek of gulls, she made her way around the docks with her usual swagger. You couldn't just walk in Hanghorse, not if you didn't want some wanker to rob you blind. You had to make a show of things. _It ain't about being all bark and no bite_ , Sette reflected, _it’s ‘bout showing them ya have a bite to give, and if they don't mind their fingers, you'll chew 'em off. Da says it’s ‘bout letting people know you’re a predator too, 'cos grebbers don't eat grebbers. Not if they think you'll eat 'em back._

Stepping nimbly about the crowd of folk loading and unloading, bartering and bellowing, squabbling and scrounging, she sauntered her way along, green eyes bright for anything that sparkled. Not that there was much of that. More common goods were the main trade, as the reek of fish would so gladly tell you, and anyone familiar with the town knew better than to put valuables on display. Still, keeping your eyes peeled was good practice. Occasionally a foreigner would make the mistake of disembarking, and their pockets were first come first served.

No luck there, but after a few minutes weaving between the press of busy bodies, Sette did make off with a few more coins than she’d arrived with, clinking comfortingly in her pockets - and a sandwich some inattentive sailor had left while he turned to pick up his bottle. A good start to the day.

Satisfied, she dodged a rolling barrel, made a rude gesture at the guy pushing it, and swaggered her way back into the closely packed earthen streets where home lay, tail swishing behind her. 

It wasn't as loud as the docks, no - here a different kind of business thrived. It wasn’t a business that'd yell in your face, but it'd be happy to empty your pockets and slit your throat if no coppers were about. Here was the murky heart of the town, where you learned the rules quick or paid the price. It was as unforgiving as it was ensnaring, and fickle as a child. You could make a nice sum if you knew where to look, but someone could just as easily take it from you and leave you bleeding on the cobbles. There was common, honest work too and common, honest people, but they were simply a rock for the crooked to hide behind. Their business wasn’t where the profit was.

It was too early for the Midnight Cricket, Sette thought, but she'd done with the docks, and perhaps there might be some kind of job waiting for her around there. Something involving lots of money she hoped, a tad optimistically.

It was then that the hands grabbed her. Before she had a chance, they had hauled her out of the busy street and into the narrow crush of an alleyway, thrashing like a fish pulled from the sea. “Leggo! Leggo've me ya wankers! I'll-”

Someone pressed a grimy hand across her mouth, and with a shriek of indignation, she bit down on it. It was the stranger's turn to shriek then. A stoopid womanly shriek, Sette thought, somewhat gratified. Men weren't half so tough as they thought they were. He pulled his hand free, gasping as he held it up and watched the blood drip from his wounds.

“Shit! The runt's got fangs! She bit me!”

“Too right I did, and ya taste piss-foul, taste like coward,” Sette spat contemptibly. “Ya best be lettin' me go now, if ya want t' live. Mebbe then I'll stay me hand with mercy and not turn ya scabby yellow hides inta me boots, and ya bloody innards into me bootlaces!”

Someone laughed, and a slender figure peeled away from the shadows, a hulking man at his side like some ridiculous guard dog. _He’s ugly enough t’ be one too._ “She's sure got a mouth on her,” the slim one commented. Something in the cruel turn of his lip unsettled her, but she bared her teeth at him and let him see none of it. “Listen, girl, I don't know who you think you are-”

“Balls! I'm Sette Frummagem is who, and me Da's-”

“Enough of that,” the man said as if bored, gesturing to his guard dog, who backhanded her without so much as a blink. The blow was hard, enough to rattle her brain in her skull, and for perhaps the first time in her life, Sette shut up. The world was buzzing, and the whole left side of her face was numb. She choked back tears, refusing to let them fall. She'd been hit before, it weren't new. _There ain’t no way I’m cryin' for these knobs. Might be small, but I’m tough, and I’ll kill the lot of 'em for this. Make 'em pay,_ she thought vindictively. _I’m a Frummagem, and there ain’t no one who gets away with hurtin' me family... 'corse, they don't seem to know 'bout that. Stoopid foreigners by the smell've 'em, that and their stoopid Crescian accent._

The man she'd bitten seemed to have perked up somewhat, and had her hair in his grip, twisting her head cruelly and forcing her to look at the slender man. He was their leader, it didn't take a genius to figure that out. When she had recovered enough to focus on him, he smiled at her, teeth glinting like the edge of a blade. “That's better. A wee thing like you should know when some respect is in order. So, you learn to keep your mouth shut, or my friend here will knock your pointy little teeth out.”

Sette glared but kept her silence. _Only 'cos I want to_ , she told herself. _No one but Da can order me about like that. I could kill these wankers any time I liked, 'corse I could, I’m just playin’ with 'em. Any minute now and BAM, I’ll rip their sorry throats out and dance on their corpses._

“Now, here's the deal: me and my friends, we need you to do a little job for us, one not suited to our build,” he continued. “You do that job and you get to live.”

He gestured to let her know she could speak, and warily she asked, “What sorta job?”

“Little snakesman.”

That made sense, she supposed. Some child, passed through a window in order to open the rest of the house up. She’d done the job before, though she much preferred to be the one filling their pockets with valuables.

“What's in it for me?” she asked automatically.

“You get to live. If that isn't adequate, just say the word and we'll find ourselves another kid. It's not like there's a shortage.”

Tentatively, she licked her lips, the blood salty on her tongue. She wasn't sure it was a result of the guard dog's blow, or the remnants of her own attack of the man who held her. “I can do it,” she told them. “Ya gotta lemme go tho. I don't do business with 'em as likes to hang onta me like some lonely child fancier.” She sniffed. “Got standards.”

The slender man gave her a wry smile which suggested he was willing to humour her. “Alright. But you run and you're dead.” He nodded to the man holding her still, and he released her.

Sette brushed her rumpled clothes of with great dignity, holding her head high. _Da says lettin' folk know you ‘s scared of 'em ‘s like givin' 'em ya own knife to stick ya with. Not that she was scared. I’m Sette Frummagem, and there ain't no one so brave as I._ She was a lion... _I’m brave and smart an cleverer 'n any... a warrior genius! These folk ‘re all part of my game, they just don't know it._ “'S better. So where's this place then?”

“You'll see. We're going there now.”

The trip passed in relative silence. The trio didn't seem a particularly talkative bunch. Well, the one she had bitten had moaned about his wound a bit -which was pleasing- but after the slender man suggested he wrap it up and keep his pitiful mewling to himself, he hadn't dared to speak again. Good thing too, because Sette's face was still throbbing painfully and she had half a mind to bite the man's other hand and give him something to really cry 'bout.

They never once mentioned any names. Whether it was professionalism, or they just didn't like each other, Sette couldn't say. It didn't please her though. She wanted the names of these flea-bitten bints, to make sure they got what was coming to ‘em.

It weren't for the slap neither. These foreigners, whoever they might be, she didn't think that once the job were done they would be paying her Da his rightful cut. That wasn't proper. Everyone 'round here owned Da some of what they stole, that was how it worked. As her Da's right-hand man, it was her duty to make sure things went right. _That's why I’m still here with 'em,_ she told herself, _t' make sure they don't try t' cheat the Frummagem family. No one got away with that._

The walk took a while longer than she had expected, taking her far from her usual hunting grounds. Sette was somewhat relieved when they finally came to a halt in a narrow, dirt smeared alleyway not unlike the one she had been enlisted in. It was at the back of some looming stone building left over from old Tawhoque. Although it was probably majestic in its time, it had clearly suffered for the years and had been painstakingly patched back together none too convincingly. Reminded her of some of the things folk tried to pawn at the market.

“This is it,” the slender man clarified. “You'll be going in through there.”

Sette followed the line of his finger, craning her neck to get a good look at where he was pointing. The window was on the second floor and little more than a slit. She reckoned she could squeeze through at a push, but it would be tight. It was a miracle it was even open.

“Once you're in, go straight down and unlock the bolts on the front door. Don't touch anything and don't do anything but what we've told you, or you die. Is that clear?”

She had to admit, the threats were growing old. If a threat was good and proper, you only had to use it once, you didn't toss them out like garbage. The man even neglected to spice them up a bit like everyone 'round Hanghorse did. It was practically a sacred tradition here to make your threats anatomically impossible. She knew they were serious, but that didn't change a thing.

“Course I understand. I ain't stoopid. Now, who's givin' me a leg up?”

The slender man didn't appreciate her brazen attitude, clearly more at home with people who cowered with fear in his presence, but he didn't tell his guard dog to hit her again, which was nice. Instead, he told the man to lift her up.

The feeling of the giant's hands around her waist made her skin crawl, but she focused on the job. He lifted her onto his shoulders, and then stretched his arms out up against the wall, nice little stepping stones for her. She clambered up onto his palms, pressed to the stone to balance herself. With a gentle spring, she closed the remaining distance and grabbed the windowsill. It was hard work on her arms pulling herself up, but she hung on with grim determination and heaved her scrawny body upward and through the gap. 

As she'd first suspected, it was a tight fit. Going head first only made her descent on the other side more of a challenge, so she wriggled and squirmed herself halfway in and paused to look around.

Directly across, a much bigger window faced the street, but its shutters were barred from the inside, dimming the interior and preventing intrusion. Pity. An entrance that direction would have been in full view of anyone willing to look up, but it was surprising what people would turn a blind eye to. Providing you weren’t one to linger, you could be in and out before anyone kicked up a fuss, and a great deal richer for it.

Moving on, she let her eyes dance across the dingy setting.

It was a big room, filled breadth and width with desks of all shapes and sizes, each desk balancing a colossal pile of junk, and ornamented delicately with numerous unorganised papers. Stank of spellery, enough to make her nose wrinkle something foul. _Hate that smell moster than anythin', and I smelt thin's that turned people yellow. Seen 'em turn yellow me own eyes as well, seen 'em vomit and had t' smell that too._ Looked like a wright’s hideout, and she didn't like it one bit.

“You stuck?” one of the men called up. She couldn't turn around to see who it was, but she suspected it was the one she'd bitten because he sounded quite hopeful. She didn't grace them with an answer, deciding it was better to get a move on and out of the stinkin' place as soon as possible.

She dropped down onto one of the desks as quietly as she could, sending up a flurry of paper, and then slipped to the floor with feline grace. 

Balanced on the balls of her feet, she listened for a moment, but there was nothing to indicate the disturbance had been noticed. Whoever the house belonged to, they were probably out, which was why the trio had decided to break in during the day. Her natural curiosity incited her to poke around the tables, but the smell unsettled her and Sette made for the door instead, opening it tentatively and sticking her head out onto the landing. Nothing.

_Da says trustin' nothin's as dumb as trustin' everythin'. Just 'cos ya can't see no danger don't mean it ain't waitin' 'round the corner for ya._

Cautiously, she slunk her way to the stairs and began to descend, tail flicking back and forth with agitation. Internally she toyed with the idea of setting up some sort of ambush or trap for the men, letting them in and welcoming them to their doom. She had no genuine plan though, and knew it was little more than an idle dream. However, Sette was above all an opportunist and her lack of action did not indicate her lack of will, and certainly not her lack of courage. _Ya wait for the right time t' strike_ , she told herself, _'cos there's no point wastin' effort on somethin' if it won't do no good._

She'd make them suffer, but all in due course.

Finding her way to the front door, she drew the bolts back and pulled it wide. Outside the streets carried on with their usual business, oblivious to her work. The three men broke from where they had been lounging in mock conversation nearby and wasted no time in joining her inside, closing the door firmly behind them. They were almost too excited to pay her any attention, but the slender man seemed to remember her as they reached the stairs, grabbing her roughly and shoving her in front of him.

“You'll be staying where we can keep an eye on you,” he warned, pushing her up the steps.

She rolled her eyes, though he wouldn't be able to see it. _Wanker._

Inside the room the other two men were already busy filling their bags with the contents of the table, grabbing papers and junk indiscriminately. It had to be valuable then, and she regretted not stuffing her pockets with some of it before she opened the door. They probably wouldn't have noticed.

“Keep a watch on the girl,” the slender man said, taking over from the guard dog. “If she touches anything, break her hands.”

Interesting. No mention of killing her this time. Must mean they needed her alive for some reason, she mused. Did they need her to sneak through another window somewhere else? Or was she supposed to be their scapegoat somehow? Sette didn't know, but she knew there was no way she'd be hanging around to find out. _Not runnin' away, just... retreatin' for later attack._

Surreptitiously she eyed the narrow window she had entered by. She was fast enough to reach it before anyone could stop her, but the question was, could she get out so quick, and if she did, could she manage the fall? Her fierce confidence insisted she could, but she forced herself to think it through. _Ain't nawt so impractical as a broken ankle when you’re wantin' to leave hurried like._

“Do you have another bag?” the one she'd bitten asked, and the slender man gave a sigh of frustration.

“I thought I told you to bring two. Never mind. Go look and see if he keeps any here himself, you can use those.”

Sette watched as, muttering to himself, the man made for the door... this was her opportunity, she could feel it... there was something in the air, something her nose told her, something she could feel.

Poised for action, she looked about her, still uncertain of her plan. It didn't matter once the man opened the door though. That was the moment when everything came to a stop.

Standing on the other side was another stranger, this one dressed in robes. His wizened face studied the man she'd bitten, and for a moment the two of them stood frozen, staring at one another and sizing up the implications.

It seemed the room was filled with statues, everyone too uncertain to make a move... Everyone knew what was going to happen, but no one wanted to start. There was a lot to think in that moment. Sette got the impression most of them were thinking ‘ _shit!_ ’ She was.

Finally, the slender man seemed to jerk back to reality - a curse word punctuated the silence, and he reached for a knife at his belt. “Kill him, for fuck’s sake!”

Sensing oncoming chaos, Sette took the opportunity to duck beneath one of the desks before they could fumble into action.

She heard Tanish, and light flashed, so bright it threatened to sear her eyes from her head - and she wasn’t even looking in the right direction. Turning back she saw the man she'd bitten stumble away, clutching his face while the robed man stepped into the room. The guard dog charged him blindly, but the man was ready, clutching some amulet around his neck and muttering quick words. _Pymaric_ , Sette thought, and her suspicion was confirmed as great translucent hands burst forth from the air, knocking the attacker aside.

She didn't know how it worked. Didn't rightly care either. But it stank, stank so foul it was all she could do to clasp her nose and huddle beneath the desk, wishing it would all go away. At least the wright made short work of the three thieves.

When it was done and all the screaming and yelling was at an end, Sette watched from her hiding spot as he calmly crossed the room and undid the shutters of the larger window. Then, with a quick gesture of command, he made the translucent hands haul them out and dump them in the streets below. Whether dead or alive Sette was unsure, but they wouldn't be coming back. He clasped the amulet again and the hands vanished.

Sette crouched as quietly as she could, breathing shallow, hushed breaths. She didn’t think he had noticed her before the fight, so she had a chance... a chance to wait until he left.

It seemed now that the room was silent except for her, and though the wright did nothing but stand where he was, she hated him more and more with every second that passed. Hated him for not leaving, for letting this feeling brew. Anxiety squirmed in her insides like a living creature, but she pursed her lips and betrayed nothing. _Not afraid_ , she told herself as minutes passed, while her heart beat frantically, _I'm a Frummagem. A Frummagem! We spit inta the face've fear, we-_

She sneezed. _Stoopid spellery._

Even as she bolted from her hiding place, she knew she was in trouble, more than before. She was fast, she'd always been, had t' be, how she grew up. But being fast didn't make you a proper match for a wright who'd just beaten three grown men to a pulp without breaking a sweat. Maybe he cheated, but that didn't change the fact he'd won. _Da says it's only cheatin' if ya lose... An' the best way t' beat a cheat is t' cheat better'n 'em._

So being quick wasn't going to help. But she could cheat. She was clever enough to cheat, and sly enough to pull it off. _I ain't big and mebbe I ain't so tough as to kill a wright, but I got me brain, an' it's the cleverest brain there ever were._

She wanted to run. Failing that, she wanted to attack, to bare her teeth and make him rue the day his ma popped him out from between her legs... but all she did was stumble back, hands held out defensively before her, sobbing like a child. She hated it, hated to have to do this, to look so weak and pathetic, but she knew how and she would.

“It weren't me! They made me do it!” she cried, eyes wide and imploring, forcing her body to tremble. “It ain't me fault... P-please don't kill me.”

The wright walked toward her, but his anger didn't melt, not like she was used to, not like it was supposed to... he just grinned.

“Kill you? Maybe I should. You wouldn't be the first little rat I've disposed of. Stinking things, always cropping up, no matter how many you cull,” he said, laughing softly. Sette pressed herself back against the desk, cringing away from him and hoping she'd made the right decision. Should she run? Should she flee now? He crouched before her with surprising dexterity for a man of his age, titling his head inquisitively. “What's your name, girl?”

“Betty,” she told him earnestly.

He smiled at her. “Alright then, Betty, tell you what. I don't think I'll kill you, I've had enough of that for now.”

“Why should I trust ya?” she asked, narrowing her green eyes and glancing toward the open window. “Ya hurt them.”

“True,” he mused. “Mayhaps you shouldn't trust me, I'm not the most trustworthy man hereabouts. Promises haven't kept me from doing what I feel like in the past, and nothings kept me from killing those who have it coming to them. Or who piss me off. But no, you strike me as a lass with a brain, and I think that's good. You're not like them.”

This gave her pause for thought. She didn’t know what he was getting at. In fact, she didn’t know what to make of the man, and he unnerved her. It wasn’t his grin, wasn’t even the subtle air of menace that seemed to radiate from his aged exterior... it was the way he smiled and beamed with his face while spouting threats and darkness with his words, how he seemed two impossibly different things at once. It was how she found it futile to try and figure him out. Was he happy? Angry? Frustrated? She simply couldn’t see through his manner to the truth at his heart, which was strange. Most folk she could judge from a cursory glance. She knew where she stood with them. Not here. _I ain’t scared..._

In the end, all she did was ask, “How?”

“Well, I'd think that'd be obvious. It was too late for them, they were stuck. Wouldn't be anything but thieves and cutthroats, and the only future they could look forward to was an early death, quite possibly in the gutter with their own piss. All they're good for is target practice. If I hadn't been so angry, I'd have had the forethought to keep them a little longer, for that very reason. But you? You're young, and I think you're slyer than you look, so I don't think you have to be the same. You can grow up.”

“Yeah,” Sette mumbled, staring at the floor, “grow up.”

“That's right,” he said, “so I'm going to give you some advice. Then I'll kick you out, and if I ever catch you round here again, I won't think twice about adding you to the body pile. Clear? Good.”

He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve, and almost seemed to lose his place before he looked up and saw her gazing back at him. “So here it is: _get out_. It doesn't matter how, just find something else to do with your life, if you want to keep living it. You won't be a kid forever, and everyone won't just let you off with a warning when you get caught. There's a price to be paid for what you do, and it's one more steep than anyone can afford. Don't tell me it's not your fault. Don't tell me you have no choice. The fact is you do and you know it, and if you don't take it, you've got nothing to look forward to other than an early death and heart full of regrets. There's no real family for you like this, there's no love for you like this, only betrayal and pain. Believe me, I know. Get out.”

For a moment she stood stock still. Then she felt it, the growing anger ready to boil over, the fury too big for her to hold.

“Liar!” she snapped, hands balled into fists. “You're nothin' but a crazy lyin' wanker! I got me family, and they love me they do, and I don't care what ya say, family don't run out on family! I ain't a traitor and I ain't a coward, an' ya don't scare me one bleedin' inch!”

He only laughed. She wanted to punch him. _Damn stoopid wrights with their damn stoopid noses in the air, thinkin' they know everythin' when they can't tell their heads from their arses._ He was wrong. She knew he was wrong. He weren't a Frummagem, he wouldn't understand, couldn't grasp how wrong he was 'cos he'd never had a family so grand as hers.

“Crazy I might be,” he said, “but it seems to me that if they loved you, they wouldn't want you to get so hurt.”

He reached out to poke the fresh bruise on her cheek and she flinched away, burning inside. “They know I can take care've meself.”

“That's not what love is,” he told her, tutting loudly. “Love is knowing and worrying anyway.”

They remained in silence for a minute, Sette grasping desperately for something to say, to deny it, to prove he was wrong. Her Da loved her. She knew it! He was wrong. _Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, WRONG!_ But she did nothing but stare helplessly into space, and it was the old wright who eventually broke the hush with another laugh.

“Well, lookit that, it seems I've shocked you silent. Good thing too, because I'd have booted you out the window if you didn't listen. Can't stand it when kids don't listen.”

He paused then, his maddening grin softening to something almost empathic. “I have some salve downstairs that should help that bruise heal up quick. It won't make everything better, but it's a good place to start.” He pulled himself upward, joints creaking, though he ignored them. “It will only take a minute. You touch a thing and I'll rip you limb from limb.”

With a cheery wave and a warning smile he left her alone with nothing but her thoughts, her nails biting into her palms. She knew she should be doing something, anything, but his words bolted her to the spot. _It weren't true! It was all lies!_ But then why did she feel like this? Why was she even thinking about this? Yet she was, and somewhere, though she tried to brush it away, a single thought whispered like the vicious sweep of a knife ' _what if he's right?_ '

And it hurt.

There were many things that could have happened that day. Possibilities are infinite. But as Sette saw it, there was only one way for it to go.

By the time the wright returned, she was long gone, having hightailed out the open window with a bag of stolen goods dangling from each scrawny shoulder.

It didn't matter what the wright said, because it didn't change one vital fact: She was a Frummagem. Maybe the future weren't bright for her, and maybe things wouldn't be easy, but she didn't expect them to be. She didn't want no easy livin' life, what she wanted was family, and she had it. Da said ' _you're me girl, Sette_ ', and so she was, forever and always, no matter what that meant...


End file.
